After idling back and
forth for a time, Kirk selected a chair and stretched himself out;
but he was scarcely seated before the deck steward approached him
and said:
"Do you wish this chair for the voyage, sir?"
"Yes, I think so."
"I'll put your name on it."
"Anthony, Suite A, third floor, front."
"Very well, sir." The man wrote out a card and fitted it to the
back of the chair, saying, "One dollar, if you please."
"What?"
"The price of the chair is one dollar."
"I haven't got a dollar."
The steward laughed as if to humor his passenger. "I'm afraid then
you can't have the chair."
"So I must stand up all the way to Panama, eh?"
"You are joking, sir. I'll have to pay it myself, if you don't."
"That's right--make me as uncomfortable as possible. By-the-way,
what size collar do you wear?"
"Sixteen."
Kirk sighed. "Send the purser to me, will you? I'll fix up the
chair matter with him."
While he was talking he heard the rustle of skirts close by and
saw the woman he had met earlier seating herself next to him. With
her was a French maid bearing a rug in her hands. It annoyed the
young man to realize that out of all the chairs on deck he had
selected the one nearest hers, and he would have changed his
position had he not been too indolent.
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